


I'll Be Home for Christmas

by nothinginfinite



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2008-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 01:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothinginfinite/pseuds/nothinginfinite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon misses home, perhaps more than he realizes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** If I was making money writing these stories, I wouldn't be in the debt that I am. This is in no way true or intended to hurt the aforementioned parties. Any similarities to actual events are purely coincidental. As always, please do not link this to anyone mentioned in this story or the people they know.

Jon rests his head against the cool glass of the window, staring out at the men below, running around to get the plane prepared for takeoff. The the gray clouds above are heavy with the promise of snow and Jon prays that the weather and the tarmac stays clear, just until they're in the air. He doesn't want to be stranded here for days in a blizzard with no way to get home; it's already been too long since he's had the comfort of his sheets, Spencer's scent wrapped all around him. There's the bustling sound of people moving around him, the snap of the overhead compartments closing and people settling into their proper seats, but Jon pays them no mind. He suddenly wishes that Spencer was here with him, the two of them leaning close and whispering as they make up stories for different individuals, speculating on their holiday plans.

Jon sighs softly and turns as the presence of another person fills the seat next to him. He's surprised to see a terrified-looking young girl sitting next to him in first class, he can't be sure, but he's guessing she's around nine or ten and from the looks of her big blue eyes that are glossy and puffy around the edges, this is her first time flying. She looks up at him with wide eyes and Jon can't help but be reminded of his cats when they want something from him and he can't help it when his heart melts.

"Is this your first time flying?" Jon's voice is smooth and soft and it seems to help the little girl relax some as she looks at him, nodding slowly. He breaks into a wide grin and settles back in his seat.

"Mine too. We can have an adventure together!" The girl looks a little dubious so Jon pulls out his iPod and holds out an earbud to her. "Hey, do you like Disney?"

That seems to have done the trick because her eyes light up, tears forgotten and she grins, wide and toothy and something clenches in his heart at her smile, so like someone else he's familiar with. She settles against his side, taking the earbud to nestle in her ear, humming, albeit off-key, to _Under the Sea_ pouring from the small plastic device. Jon can't help but smile back and he closes his eyes and tries not to think of blue eyes and beaming smiles.

*****

_"Jon? Did you manage to concentrate your signature Christmas scent? Because it totally smells like you're making-" Brendon's bouncing into Jon's kitchen, grinning excitedly as he takes in his surroundings, eyes bright. There are racks of cooling cookies, a bowl of cookie dough and Jon, wearing an apron to protect him from the mess but still sporting a streak of flour across his cheek. "-cookies, Jon! You're making Christmas cookies! You are totally my favorite ever!"_

_Jon can't help the grin that breaks out across his face and he swats at Brendon's hand playfully when he reaches for one of the cookies cooling on the racks. "I don't think so, Brendon. You only get a cookie if you help me put these in tins. I want to get these ready to hand out before everyone takes off for the holidays. It's a pain to have to ship these things; they always end up broken." Jon looks adamantly at Brendon and even tries out the patented Urie-pout and it must work; Brendon's already reaching for a tin and meticulously placing cookies inside of it._

_Spencer stumbles into the kitchen right about then, bleary-eyed and rubbing sleep from his eyes, pajama pants riding low on his hips, his sleep-rumpled shirt hiked up a bit, exposing his soft belly and sharp hips. He mumbles something unintelligible and accepts the coffee mug Jon hands him gratefully. After a few sips, Spencer is more awake and he looks at Jon with a raised eyebrow. "Jon. It's eight in the morning. What_ are _you doing?"_

_Shrugging bashfully, Jon grins and spreads his hands out to encompass the whole kitchen. "Baking cookies, Spencer Smith."_

_Spencer rolls his eyes, but there's a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and he ducks his head to hide his amusement as Brendon sneaks up behind Jon and smears cookie dough across Jon's cheek. Jon gasps in indignation and whirls around to counterattack, whipping Brendon's slim hips with the towel. "That's a waste of perfectly good cookie dough, Brendon Urie!"_

_The two tussle and mock-food fight and all is fun and games until an errant piece of cookie dough flies off of Brendon's hand-even play fighting, he's got his hands flapping a mile a minute-and lands squarely in the middle of Spencer's forehead. Jon and Brendon go quiet, eyes wide as Spencer reaches up to wipe the oily dough from his face and Brendon's ready to get on his knees and_ beg _for forgiveness when Spencer chuckles, his head ducked and shoulders shaking as he tries to keep from cracking right up but it's not working and Jon and Brendon look at each other and grin, letting out small chuckles of their own. Before they know it, Spencer is full out laughing, his face wide and open as he throws his head back in amusement, eyes squinted so tiny they're almost closed and something that looks suspiciously like tears of laughter in them. Jon doesn't think he's ever seen anything more beautiful than Spencer looked in that moment; face completely open and honest. When Spencer calms down and asks him what he's looking at, Jon will only reach out and wipe the cookie dough off of his forehead and eat it, pretending to savor the flavor, leading them all to erupt into another fit of laughter._

_And Spencer. Spencer will always associate Christmas with Jon Walker._

*****

"Sir? Sir?"

Jon's eyes flutter open and he blinks a little in confusion before he remembers that he is on a plane and he stretches, wincing at the kink in his neck. He looks questioningly at the stewardess, realizing that the plane is no longer moving and the little girl is no longer beside him. She looks at him, a smile fighting at the edge of her lips before she shrugs apologetically.

"The plane's landed. She wanted to let you sleep, but I didn't think that you'd enjoy waking up in Alaska at some point." Jon smiles at her then, soft and easy, nodding as he stretches once more to wake his body, and then leans down to gather the rest of his belongings and pack them away properly in his carry on. There's an ache in his neck and back, compliments of falling asleep folded up in a chair that isn't designed for sleeping, and he feels exhausted, weariness seeping through his whole body and settling into his bones. He's looking forward to being in a real bed again, curled up under the sheets with room to spread his body out.

Jon is only half-aware of his surroundings as he trudges out to the baggage claim, the weariness in his body dragging him down with every step he takes. He's thankful that there's a minimum amount of people milling around, thanks to his delay off the plane, which means that there's less likely of a chance for him to be recognized and pestered for autographs. Normally, he doesn't mind indulging their fans, but he's tired and just wants to go home. Jon shuffles outside, the cool air hitting his face instantly, waking him up just enough to flag down a cab; celebrity or not, airport fees are too expensive to leave a car parked in their garage.

After tucking his suitcase into the trunk of the cab, Jon slides into the back, shivering slightly at the press of the seat against his back, the coolness of the leather seeping through his clothing. The cab driver is looking at him expectantly and Jon realizes that he's waiting on directions. Running a hand through his hair, Jon rattles off the address, tiredness tugging at his words, tripping them over themselves, but the cab driver nods. Jon presses his head against the window as the cab pulls away from the curb, his body temperature warming the frozen glass. He's asleep before they even leave the airport.

*****

_It's Brendon's idea for them all to go Christmas caroling. Ryan is instantly against the idea because that would mean being out in the cold Chicago weather and he's fragile, okay? The chances of him freezing to death are higher than Brendon's because Brendon has enough fat stored away in his ass that he could easily survive a winter with no food. Spencer has to admit that Brendon's scathing glare and well-aimed punch rival even his own and when Ryan turns wide, pouty eyes on Spencer, clearly begging for his ninja retaliation, Spencer just shrugs._

_"Hey. You deserved it." Brendon looks smug; Ryan just crosses his arms and pouts some more._

_In the end, Brendon wins, because Jon's enthusiasm for Christmas makes even Brendon look tame and Spencer doesn't really care either way._

_After the first three houses they decide to stop at, Spencer's beginning to wish that he'd spoken up against the whole idea. Ryan hasn't stopped complaining, except to begrudingly sing when the doors of the houses open. As soon as they close and the four of them are away from the house they'd just serenaded, out of hearing range, he starts right back up, insisting that he's going to die of hypothermia. Spencer is ready to snap at him because seriously? This is a bigger headache than anything._

_But it's worth it to see the smiles on everyone's faces, some singing along when they know the words. Even Ryan, despite his griping and constant complaining, is smiling, mouth open in a wide grin as he sings, pleased that he made someone else smile. Of course, Ryan immediately drops it as soon as he catches Spencer's eye, the scowl returning as he pretends to hate this, the bitching starting back up immediately. Hiding a smile of his own, Spencer turns his head and locks eyes with a knowing Jon, who winks at him and nods. Spencer blames his blush on the cold._

_(Later, after they've all piled back into Jon's house to escape the cold and warm their frozen extremities, Spencer will follow Jon into the kitchen to help him with the homemade hot chocolate. Leaning against the counter, Spencer will watch as Jon hums the remnants of a familiar Christmas song, stirring the milk in the pot, and adding spoonfuls of finely ground candy cane to spice things up. Spencer doesn't even realize he's staring until, suddenly, his eyes are looking into Jon's and there's something there that Spencer can't describe. Something like butterflies settle in his stomach as Jon watches him, almost calculatingly, a small smirk playing on his lips._

_Before he can open his mouth to say_ anything _, Jon is across the kitchen and his lips are on Spencer's in the most chaste and yet passionate kiss that Spencer has ever received in his life. Jon's lips are still cold from being outside and Spencer gasps into his mouth, which only serves to allow entrance for Jon's tongue. Spencer can feel the stir of something akin to arousal in his lower belly and he's arching into Jon when the timer on the stove goes off, signaling that the chocolate is finished. Jon pulls away, looking regretful, lips wet and swollen from kissing Spencer. Something twists inside of Spencer._

_"What. What was that?"_

_Jon shrugs, but he's smiling, wide and happy, his cheeks rosy and eyes dancing. "Mistletoe, Spencer Smith."_

_Spencer follows his gaze upwards to light on the mistletoe above their heads and he figures he should be upset because what the fuck is_ mistletoe _doing in the middle of a kitchen,_ seriously _, but the memory of Jon's lips on his own fills him with a warmth that has nothing to do with the hot chocolate in his cup._

_This time, he can't even blame his blush on the cold.)_

*****

"Hey, mister."

Jon is woken for the second time in less than two hours by a complete stranger and he blinks blearily at the driver, once again feeling a little disoriented. The confusion must show on his face because the driver's face softens and he shrugs a little, nodding out the window. "We're here."

Blinking again, Jon looks out his own window, surprised to see that they've already pulled up in front of the more-than-familiar three bedroom home. Jon nods absently and unbuckles himself, suddenly feeling refreshed now that he is home. _Home,_ Jon thinks and a smile spreads across his face, lighting it up as he climbs out of the cab, the driver already waiting with his luggage. Jon pays him, excusing himself with a polite, "Keep the change". He's aware of the man's thanks in return before the the sound of the vehicle leaving reaches Jon's ears, but he's not really paying much attention, more focused on not tripping over anything in his haste to get to the front door.

When he reaches the door, Jon hesitates, biting his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth. Taking a deep breath-he's not sure why he's nervous, but there's a swarm of butterflies taking up residence where his heart should be-and he pulls out the small flower from where he'd carefully stored it in his pocket (he's honestly amazed that he hasn't destroyed it yet). Jon can hear the sound of voices inside, a laugh and he grins, reaching up to knock on the door before him.

He can hear footsteps approaching within seconds and only moments later, the door swings open, startled blue eyes greeting his own. Spencer's mouth drops open, forming a little 'o' of surprise, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Jon? What are you-"

Jon doesn't give him time to explain, instead pulling him to him, one arm poised above them on the door frame where he'd cleverly rested it. Spencer has a moment to melt into Jon's embrace before Jon is kissing him, deeply and Jon vaguely feels like a man dying for water in a parched desert, who has suddenly been blessed by the rain. He kisses Spencer with everything he has, only pulling away when it's apparent that they might die from lack of oxygen.

Spencer's eyes are sparkling and his cheeks are flushed and this time Jon _knows_ that it's not from the cold. He chuckles and shakes the hand above their heads a little, grinning when Spencer looks up, eyes rolling. "Mistletoe, Jon?"

"Hey. It got me my first kiss, Spencer Smith. I thought it was tradition by now." Jon can see the smile tugging at the corner of Spencer's lips and he's waiting for him to break into laughter; instead, Spencer eyes Jon curiously.

"I thought you were spending Christmas in Chicago? You kept talking about how you missed home, I though for sure...." Spencer trails off, suddenly looking uncertain and something tugs at Jon's heart. He reaches out and cups Spencer's cheek, brushing a thumb over his bottom lip.

"Don't you know by now, Spencer Smith, that home is anywhere _you_ are?" Jon's voice is soft, but firm and each word is filled with a truth that Jon knows Spencer hears. He knows he's right when he's awarded with a winning smile and another eye roll.

"Jon Walker, you are a sap and I don't know why I call you my boyfriend. Come inside before you freeze; what would the neighbors think?"

Jon is grinning as he follows Spencer inside and he thinks to himself that yes, home is definitely where the heart is.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on justranda/nothinginfinite on livejournal. written as a gift for himmerethwen for the santaatthedisco holiday fic exchange 2008.


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